"VELVET" by Sarah Ryniker
© 2003 by Sarah Ryniker [email protected] http://www.geocities.com/iamthealmightyrah/FF.html
STORY LAST UPDATED ON 09/02/2003
PROLOGUE
As a child, I felt very lost and unloved. Like so many other children before me in my family, I went unnoticed. There was the usual birthday party, Easter, Christmas, you know, the usual holidays that nobody really forgets. And sure, there were so many gifts no child would ever know what to do with them all.
Yet material belongings do not make up for the lack of love and devotion family should have for one another. But my family was as cold as ice towards one another, merely living with each other. Nobody knew more about anyone else, at least so I thought, and nobody knew what love really was.
But then again, does anyone ever know what love is? Or do we all just float through our lives, believing that we know the truth about love? I knew what love was, though. It was something I'd been desperately deprived of.
CHAPTER ONE: RICHES
We were rich. There was no denying that. My father ran his father's large sports industry. They sold sports paraphernalia, such as shoes; jackets; knickknacks for football teams, baseball teams, basketball teams and so on. I wasn't really into sports and had only been in one of the giant stores, named too perfectly after my family, "Tell-Tell Sports". A rather stupid name, though I never gave my opinion to anyone.
I never went without. Should I want something, I had it there at my fingertips. But that can only amuse some children for so long before getting bored and wanting more. Lonely children, like me, only wanted to be loved. Sadly, I kept this hidden from my family, just as I kept everything from them. I thought that I was wrong and greedy for wanting my family's love and care.
I didn't have a large immediate family. There was only my mother, Mora, my father, Kenneth, and my brother, who wasn't even born until I was twelve years old, Junior. Already, at seven, my brother understood that we ignored the bad, and were rewarded with the good or bad. As long as we didn't go against the rich man's rules, all went well. I could already see him becoming a spoiled, self-centred brat. I didn't like him, and at nineteen, I was much too old to be passing judgment on a child.
From the moment I graduated, two weeks before my eighteenth birthday, in June, my father was trying to marry me off. I believe that it's the only time I ever defied his, or my mother's, wishes. But I had no interest in marrying some rich boy. If I didn't marry somebody I was in love with, how could I love our children? What would even be my purpose for living?
I knew that was what was so wrong with Mora. She insisted that we call her by her name. She'd never had much interest in being a mother, but especially a mother to children of a man she didn't love. So by having us call her by her given name, she could ignore it easier. She could pretend that we weren't her children, and that she was still waiting for her knight in shining armour to come save her. She lived a pathetic life, another opinion that I kept under tight lock and key.
Incomplete